You'll like this game
by knigs43
Summary: Sherlock is stunned when his daughter turns up after 10 years and comes to live with both him and John. The hunt for a serial killer is on and her life is endangered when she becomes involved with the case will Sherlock be able to protect his daughter and catch the killer? Set after A scandal in Belgravia and I will be doing chapters on The Hounds of Baskerville. Reviews welcome
1. Chapter 1

"Bored." A moments silence. "I'm so very bored." Another pause.

Sherlock threw himself up and out of his chair and started to jump around on the sofa. He then sat back down. He steepled his hands and began to think, not there was much to think about. No new cases that excited any client that came to him was so dull. Dull.

"Why are the criminal underworld deciding to be so delightfully boring." Sherlock moaned.

"Well what about the case that…" John started before being cut off. John was behind his laptop typing another of his and Sherlock's cases for his blog.

"Delightfully dull. He wasn't dead, he's run off with his lover and just made it looked as if he was dead." Sherlock continued in his monotone voice.

Sherlock stood and picked up his violin and bow and started to play whilst walking around. Mrs Hudson walked in with a cheerful "hoo hoo" and went into the fridge and let out a squeal.

"Thumbs. Sherlock. Thumbs." Mrs Hudson said as she shut the fridge and quickly as she had opened.

"Throw them away they are too old now. The experiment didn't work. Oh and make tea as well. A nice brew to help stimulate the mind in this day of bored." Sherlock asked as he lowered his violin.

"I'm your landlady not your house keeper." Mrs Hudson uttered as she walked out of the room.

John had left to go to work at the surgery some time ago. Sherlock was just in his chair looking into the kitchen doing absolutely nothing. Mrs Hudson came in and out and spoke to him but it clearly wasn't important enough as he filtered it and paid no attention to what she had said. Just then his phone started to buzz. Lestrade. Sherlock thought a great deal about whether or not to answer the phone. It was a great effort but Sherlock answered the phone. John walked through the door just as Sherlock answered the phone.

"Lestrade. What do you want?"

"Hello to you to." The detective replied slightly offended. "We've got a murder. Victim's been dead no more than a couple of hours. No witnesses. It looks like a Study in Pink all over again."

"What do mean?" Sherlock queried

"You'll see you get here."

"Is Anderson going to be there?"

"Yes. Why?

"He annoys me. I can't work when he's around and Donovan." Sherlock huffed

"Just come." Lestrade said before hanging up the phone.

Sherlock stood up and put his blue scarf around his neck and his woollen coat and ran down the stairs. _Utterly clueless. The police are totally clueless._ Sherlock thought as he hailed a taxi. Both he and John climbed in. They arrived and they walked straight towards the flat.

"Freaks arrived." Donovan said as she lifted the police tape for John and Sherlock

"Piss off Donovan." Sherlock called as he walked straight past her.

Sherlock and John went straight upstairs and were greeted by Lestrade. Sherlock examined the body. Middle aged female. Business woman judging by the suit. Multiple cuts to the lower arms and backs of the upper leg. A further four cuts were made to right side of her neck. All fresh and deep across main veins and arteries. Not a self-harmer no scars to prove. Sherlock spotted a screwed up piece of paper in her closed hand. He pulled it out.

 _You're going to enjoy this game, Sherlock._

"What's that a note?" John asked.

"Not a suicide one." Sherlock whispered to John. "This isn't suicide. She was murdered."

"What are you talking about, freak." Anderson spat at him.

"Shut up Anderson. Actually get him out of here. I can't concentrate and he's lowering the IQ of everyone in the room." Sherlock retorted.

"Sherlock" John said trying to get him to stop.

"I'm staying to see how you know this wasn't a woman who had enough committing suicide. We found the knife in her hand covered in blood. We taking it for fingerprint analysis." Anderson said trying to better Sherlock. "The knife…"

"Bye Anderson." Sherlock stood up and pushed Anderson out of the room and slammed the door in his face.

"Have you got any evidence to prove that this is murder, Sherlock." Greg asked.

"Not yet. However, she wasn't a self-harmer no evidence of scars to prove that she had previously cut herself also no suicide note the only note that was found clearly wanted me to investigate, I don't investigate suicides, I investigate murders. The note was clearly written by the victim under pressure. It's scruffy and scruffy they were clearly being held a knifepoint. This is opposite to a Study in Pink this isn't self-inflicted this was done on purpose. The note suggests that there is going to be more bodies. Lestrade call me as soon as another body turns up." Sherlock opened the door. "Out of my way Anderson."

Sherlock was sat in usual char in 221B Baker Street waiting for Lestrade to call about another body. Nothing added up he knew it wasn't a suicide but how did he prove it wasn't a suicide. John was due back from work at some point soon. He heard the front door shut. John was talking to Mrs Hudson but he knew that somebody else was there. A girl, she was about 15. Sherlock was confused, why was John bringing home a teenager. He listened in.

"She came in to surgery. She had been attacked. She told me she'd been living on the streets for months. Her mother had been killed and she hadn't seen her dad in 10 years." John explained.

"Poor thing." Mrs Hudson said sympathetically. "Sherlock. What's he going to say."

He suddenly paid more interest when he heard his name being mentioned.

"She knows about him." John said.

"Thank you for this. You don't have to." He heard the girl speak for the first time.

"Don't be silly."

He heard both of them coming upstairs. He turned to face the door. John came in first and invited the girl in. She looked around the room nervously taking in every detail. She didn't look like she had been on the streets for months. She had new clothes but they weren't borrowed they were brand new. She clearly had money. She was slim but slimmer than most clearly had been eating whilst she lived on the streets despite the money she had probably down the anxiety the way she hugged herself and was very inward didn't look up much. She had black hair that came down past her shoulders slightly and had brown hairs. She had a backpack that she obviously carried her things in. He felt like he knew from somewhere. He couldn't work it out.

"Sherlock…" John started.

"I knew. I heard you talking downstairs. An orphaned girl of 15 who was attacked this morning. Her mother killed and she hadn't…hadn't… hadn't seen her father in 10…10 years. I'm so sorry." Sherlock stood and took his leave.

"Sherlock. Sorry, he's not usually like this." John followed Sherlock out. "What's going on?"

"I know that girl. She is my…my…my daughter." Sherlock struggled to say this.

"You a father." John said confused

Sherlock went back into the room. "You came here with John today in a hope of finding somewhere to stay for a while before you went back to living on the streets or as long as I allow you to stay. You seemed scared when you came in. Scared of me? I now understand why. It's because as soon as John mentioned you knew who I was. Hello Rosie, 10 years. 10 years and there hasn't been one day when I haven't thought about you."

"Sherlock. Do you want to explain?"

"This is Rosie. My child who I haven't seen in 10 years. She was the result of drug-infused night with her mother. Her mother never wanted her to see me. Well because of who I was and personally don't blame. Not only because of drug habit but because of work as a consulting detective didn't want me to harm Rosie. My haven't you grown."

"Hello dad" Rosie said.


	2. Chapter 2

Rosie sat and listened to John tell her about the cases that he and Sherlock and solved. Rosie found it amazing that her father was this amazing genius that her mother never allowed her to see. John explained that her father's work was dangerous that that was probably why she wasn't allowed to see Sherlock. Sherlock kept watch on Rosie they whole time throughout the conversation, her mother was dead and now he was responsible for her, he didn't know the first thing about being a parent. How on earth was he going to protect her. Sherlock was confused, Rosie could look after herself and buy clothes for herself for months but he remembered the last time he saw her she had no money, what had changed so much in 10 years? Something drew him to her, he had missed her. He was going to get to know her some more it was he wanted to use her. John told Rosie that he didn't have many friends, there was himself, Molly Hooper, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. Sherlock frowned and began to deduce Rosie some more because he couldn't still fully work her out.

 _Clothes and bag all in very good condition suggesting that they are brand new. The money can only have come from her mother because if it had come from other friends and family because if they would have taken her in if they were willing to give her money they would just let her live on the streets. But where had she came into money she was barely able to fund her own drug habit. Her anxiety issues would explain why she isn't in an adoption agency or care because she didn't want to be found. She was depressed and suffering from depression because she looks lonely, empty and sad. No emotion on her face or in her eyes for that matter. Her weight was down to a mix of the depression and anxiety was affect her appetite thus explaining why she wasn't eating._

"Sherlock...Sherlock…where you listening to me?" John asked.

"Sorry what?" Sherlock said snapping back into reality.

"Is Rosie ok to stay here?" John asked again.

"Yes, of course she is." John seemed surprised. He thought that Sherlock would have given he the address of some home or something to do with Mycroft as he would want to spend his day messing about with children. He put it down to the fact that it was daughter and that he couldn't turn her away.

"I'll show you to your room." John stood up and led Rosie out.

Sherlock sat in his chair with fingers steepled thinking, trying to piece everything together. But none of it made sense to him. He couldn't work it out, not yet anyway. Sherlock stood up and went to his daughter's room and pushed the door open.

"The last time I saw you. You were running about playing in the park without a care in the world you didn't know who I was at the point. Don't think I haven't been keeping tabs on you though watching you grow up. I don't usually do caring, John will tell you that. But I do care about you and I'm sorry that I wasn't there. I truly mean that." Sherlock said with sincerity.

"It's not your fault mum would have gone mental if you came anywhere near me. She said you were some kind of psychopath."

"Highly-functioning sociopath." Sherlock grinned.

"She also told me you were a detective." Rosie told him.

"A consulting detective. The police consult me and John when they are out of their depth. Which is all of the time."

"Hoo hoo" Mrs Hudson sung. "I've brought you some tea. It's to have another girl around, help with keeping him in line and not shooting my walls and…"

"Mrs Hudson, if you don't mind." Sherlock shot at her.

Mrs Hudson turned and went to leave the room but before she went "Mycroft's here as well."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Whose Mycroft?" Rosie asked.

"My brother." Sherlock stood up and left the room. He walked into the living where he found Mycroft sat in John's car. Sherlock went and sat in his chair and Rosie sat down on the sofa next to John. Mycroft had his usual black umbrella. "What do you want Mycroft?"

"Dear brother, I just wanted to introduce myself to my niece and welcome her to your expanding family here at 221B." Mycroft said rising and walking over to shake Rosie's hand. "Pleasure."

"Rosie, Mycroft. My brother who is practically the British Government. Family, Rosie is my only other member here currently. John is a…friend"

"How did you know Rosie was here anyway?" John asked.

Both Mycroft and Sherlock answered at the same time. "Cameras, John."

John sat in silence on the sofa, with an expression that suggests that he knew that would have been the answer.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again brother dear. But I do have a country to run," With that Mycroft and picked up his umbrella and walked over to the door. "John. Rosie." Mycroft turned on his heel and walked out.

Sherlock sat in his chair with his fingers steepled. He picked up his phone and started scrolling through. He then a text message flicked up.

 _You're going to bring her into this you've only just got her back._

No caller I.D. An unknown, blocked number which made it virtually untraceable. Sherlock ignored the text and deleted it. His phone then started to ring. It was Lestrade.

"Where was, it found?" Sherlock already knew why Lestrade was asking.

"Another suicide in a flat." Lestrade said.

"It wasn't suicide." Sherlock said getting annoyed. Rosie smiled at her father's expense.

"Still come and have a look, Sherlock."

"Only if I can bring Rosie." Sherlock asked.

"Who?" Greg wondered.

"Rosie. My daughter."

"Ha. You a dad. I don't believe that." Lestrade laughed.

"Yes. That isn't important. Can I bring her or not?"

"Sherlock. I don't know…"

"You let me bring John. So, you'll let me bring Rosie." Sherlock pleaded.

"Fine ok." Lestrade gave in. "Only because we need you."

"The police always need me." Sherlock hung up the phone and stood up and put on his scarf and coat. John also put on his jacket. "Coming?"

"God yes." Rosie threw herself and put on her leather jacket and ran down the stairs after Sherlock.

All three of them stood in the road and Sherlock hailed a taxi which in turn they all got in.


	3. Chapter 3

The taxi pulled up outside of flat. The only signs of life where the flashing blue lights from the police cars and the police wondering around for any signs that it could have been a murder. Once again Sergeant Donovan was on crowd control and she didn't look very pleased to see Sherlock.

"Goodie. The freak and his companion. Oh, look a teenager, isn't she a bit young for you." Donovan said sarcastically. "Who is she anyway?"

"She is a…friend. That is staying with us for a while. Lestrade has allowed her to come, so if you don't mind." Sherlock pushed straight past her with John and Rosie following. "Out of my Anderson."

Anderson grabbed hold of Rosie's arm and span her around. "A bit of advice kid, stay away from Sherlock Holmes. The sort of psycho that you don't want to be getting involved because one day those days a body in there will be because of him."

"Yeah, I guess you're right I suppose. You've known for a while so I better take what you said into account for my safety…but I think I'll get to know him a bit more before I start making judgements such as yours and basing them off rude opinions. Now if you don't mind would you please let go of my arm." Anderson did as she asking and Rosie started to walk off and called back. "It's highly-functioning sociopath. He's not a psycho."

"Good to see she's inherited your charm." John said to Sherlock as Rosie caught them up.

Once they reached the flat it was a large flat that was about the same size as a floor at 221B. Sherlock introduced Rosie to Lestrade and got straight to work. He examined the room whilst Greg, John and Rosie watched him at work. He reached the body again in the middle of the room. Once again it was a middle-aged business woman with cuts on legs, arms and neck. No previous suggestion that she had self-harmed before. Sherlock again found a note in her hand.

 _I really do think that you are going to enjoy this game, Sherlock_

Sherlock smiled the killer was making it easy for him. He didn't like easy. He pocketed the note without the others realising. He then studied the room around him, everything was neat and tidy. Perfectly aligned, facing the way and nothing out of place. Mugs facing the same direction and all unused plugs turned off. Thoroughly cleaned, no sign of dust or dirt anywhere. This suggested to Sherlock, OCD.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asked.

"Yep." The consultant stood. "This quite obviously; a woman, who had recently returned from a business meeting from the way that she is dressed and her make up. She clearly has some form of OCD because nothing is out of place, all equally aligned, mugs facing the same direction and all unused plugs off. On medication but rarely uses it because of the several unopened packets from about a year ago, despite what you believe, Graham…" 

"It's Greg," The DI cut off Sherlock.

"Yes sorry, this is not a suicide once again it is a murder scene." Sherlock finished.

Rosie looked both confused and amazed at how he knew all of that. "That was so cool."

"Deductions are all well and good Sherlock. But can you prove its murder, otherwise it looks like another suicide that I the same as the last. We found another knife in the victim's hand."

"Two suicides, potential more, committed in the exact way." The detective said in a patronising way.

"Do you have proof?" The DI asked.

"I know it wasn't suicide."

"That's not enough, Sherlock. You it isn't." Lestrade said getting annoyed.

"It wasn't suicide." Rosie piped up.

"What?" Lestrade and Sherlock said together.

"It's not suicide." Rosie suddenly felt all eyes on her. "I know, I'm 15 but I can tell you that it's not a murder."

"Go on." Sherlock said in his deep voice.

Rosie her hands out of her pockets of her jacket. "The murder is clever, to make it look suicide because the cuts are all in places that a self-harmer would go for. But there's one thing, the cuts aren't self-inflicted."

"How the bloody hell can you tell that?" Lestrade asked shocked that a 15-year-old could tell that.

"May I?" Lestrade nodded and Rosie approached the body with gloves on her hands. She indicated the cuts. "If they were self-inflicted they should be clean, straight cuts. Nice and simple. But these are different, their jagged. A struggled before she became too weak and by the way its shaped it suggests that someone else did it. People who are cutting because they want to kill themselves don't do it in the middle of their living room floor, they do it in a bath tub full of water."

"How do you know all of that?" John asked obviously concerned.

"My friend, Oliver. He self-harmed." Rosie showed her arms. "Look I don't cut. Just so we are clear. Oh…oh…their jagged."

"Don't get carried away." Sherlock said trying to get his daughter to stop before she made a fool of herself.

"What sort of knife did you say you found on the victims?" Rosie asked.

"Kitchen knives, covered in blood. The first had the victim's fingerprints on and I'm sure this one will as well." Lestrade explained.

"Oh" Sherlock said in disbelief.

"Do you want to explain for the less informed?" John asked.

"You can tell that they aren't self-inflicted not only because of the way they are shaped but because they are jagged. A kitchen knife would leave a cut that has a straight edge meaning that the only sort of knife that can leave cuts like that are serrated. Are me and Rosie the only smarts ones in the room." Sherlock said with excitement as both John and Greg nodded in realisation.

"Well it looks like we have a murder case on our hands." Lestrade sighed heavily.

The trio returned and Rosie went into her bedroom and laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. She had found after 10 years and helped prove a murder case. As days go for the past few months, this isn't too bad. Rosie up a picture of her and her mum, she looked at the picture and a tear fell down her face. There was a knock at her door. Rosie wiped her face.

"Yeah." Rosie called out.

Sherlock walked into the room and sat next to Rosie on her bed.

"Thank you earlier for what you said to Anderson and Donovan. It's good to see them be shut up by someone that isn't me for once." Sherlock said with a small smile on his face.

"That's ok. You didn't tell them were related though." Rosie wondered.

"They're not the sort of people that I wanting out I have a child and for you to have to endure their abuse about me being your father. They really aren't my greatest fans and the will assume the same about you as they do about me. The freak's daughter. I couldn't have them do that to you." Sherlock put his arm around Rosie and pulled her into a hug.

"Thanks dad."


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock hadn't been to bed all night, he had just sat in his chair all night. He was waiting for something to happen because he knew it would. This killer was clever, smarter than those that he had met before. He couldn't work out who it was at all.

"Morning." Rosie said as she walked into the room dressed in top and skirt.

"How did your mum die?" Sherlock bluntly asked.

"Err…Good morning to you to." Rosie was taken aback by the question. "It was about six months ago, it was just me and mum. We were watching TV one night when there was a knock at the door and mum went out to see and she was talking to who it was, I couldn't hear. They started shouting and then suddenly mum screamed and a gun was fired. I stuck my head around the corner, hidden in the dark though so they didn't spot me. I saw mum, face flat on the floor in a pool of her blood. I didn't see the guy who she was talking too. I hid just in case they came looking for anybody else, I hid for a good hour or so. I came out and then went to look just in case. Nothing. Just mums blood. Her body was gone. I was terrified, I didn't know what to do, where to go or who to see. I went closer, blood all up the door and on the window. Blood down the driveway. I went back inside and found a bullet case and rose in the pool of blood. I found it so hard to sleep that night but I did sleep eventually." Rosie took a deep breath before she carried on. "I woke up, turned on the news. A body had been found in warehouse down by the Thames, she had a rose in her hair. They never found who killed mum." Rosie shrugged that off. "As bad as it sounds, I suppose I'd have never got the chance to know you if mum hadn't have died. I miss her though."

Sherlock was amazed at the way that Rosie had kept so calm throughout that. He didn't really expect her to tell him or for her to start crying. But she had stayed remarkable calm, rough like him.

"Where did your mum get the money from Rosie? When I last saw, her she was a penniless drug addict. You turn up new clothes and bag. Sounds like you weren't bad off before she died. What happened?" Sherlock wondered.

"She gave up the drugs, started working for some guy. I never found out who he was. He just paid well and mum was able to look after us both."

A text popped up on Sherlock's phone:

 _You and the girl are both enjoying this game, aren't you?_

How the hell did this person know about Lucy? Who was watching them? Was it the same person the killed her mum or was it the guy killing the people and making them look like suicides? He needed to protect Rosie, he'd only just got her back.

 _Are you ready for the next part of my game?_

Jesus, this guy is mad. Another text came through this time from Lestrade, the finger prints on knives matched those of the victims no hint towards the killer. Why are criminals getting so smart? Then a picture text message, the unknown number again.

It was a row of houses. Two story buildings, expensive looking with big open driveways.

"Morning." John said with a yawn as he came into the room.

"Was that a statement telling me that it was the morning, or a general greeting?" Sherlock queried.

"General greeting, you should try using it some time. Instead of asking about dead parents." Rosie told her dad whilst patting him on the knee.

When everyone was gone from the room, Sherlock replied to the message.

 _Why give me a clue? – SH_

 _Even criminals get bored, Sherlock Holmes. Rosie should quite enjoy that clue though._

Sherlock went over to John and spoke to him about the text messages he'd received. The picture and how he'd changed his motive and started to give clues. The fact that he knew about Rosie.

"Is he getting more confident that we won't be able to work out that it's him. Why's he dragging a teenager into this?" John had question racing throughout his head.

"Yes, he's probably getting more confident. I don't know why he's dragging Rosie into this." Sherlock said calmly.

"How can you be so calm about this. Your daughter's life is possibly in danger. It's like you don't even care." John said getting angry with Sherlock.

"Rosie knew living with me would be dangerous. You knew as well when you came and lived with me that your life would be put in danger. I've not let anything bad happen to you." Sherlock said not getting any angrier.

"I almost got blown up." John mumbled with a mouthful of toast.

"Apart from that. But you did and I would never have let it happen. I especially won't put my family at risk. Anyway, back to the picture."

"It was a street of houses." John said plainly.

"Well observed. Look closer John." Sherlock pushed him.

"I don't…that road is only about fifteen or twenty minutes from here." John realised.

"Good, you're learning. We're going there today." Sherlock said patronisingly.

"Told Lestrade?" John asked.

"Nope" Sherlock said looking at his phone thinking about the picture and its importance.

"Are you going to?" John said pushing Sherlock.

"I wasn't going to." Sherlock replied not looking up from his phone.

"Phone him. I'm going to get ready."

Sherlock phoned Lestrade and told him about the next messages and the picture and how he, John and Rosie would meet him at the scene in about thirty minutes. All three of them bundled into the back of a taxi and drove to scene. Sherlock drummed his fingers on knee throughout the whole journey.

"How will they know what house to look for?" John questioned.

"They'll search the houses and looked for the abandoned ones. Ah, we've arrived and there's Lestrade." Sherlock said as he got out of the taxi.

"I know this road…I definitely recognise this road." Rosie uttered barely audible for anybody to hear. Sherlock and Lestrade both heard.

"What do you know about this road?" They both asked at the same time.

"Follow me." Rosie walked down the road. To specific houses and she then walked up the drive. With her gloved hand, she put a key in the lock which opened the front door. "This is it. This is house my mum died in. This is my old house and probably one of the houses in your picture dad. I heard you and John talking before you ask. This is becoming more about me and I don't care if my life is in danger. I want to find the person who killed my mum and is killing innocent people for the fun of it."

"I reckon another body or if we're lucky the knife." Sherlock said gleefully.

"You alright kid?" Lestrade asked.

"Fine, I just didn't expect to be back. Is it ok to look around?" Rosie wanted to reminisce of times with her mum before her life was becoming more dangerous.

"Don't touch anything yeah." Lestrade said softly squeezing Rosie's arm.

Rosie began to wandering around a house that she never expected to be in again. She walked up the stairs grasping tightly to the banister. She walked down the landing to a door and she took hold of the handle. She heard Greg speaking to his officers telling them to look for either a knife or a body. Rosie took a deep breath and twisted the door handle. She then let out a piercing scream as she entered the room. She had not expected to see that, written in blood on her bedroom wall in big capital letters.

SHERLOCK…ROSIE…HAVING FUN

Rosie screamed.


	5. Chapter 5

Rosie's scream rung throughout the whole house. It was piercing. She slammed the door and slip down it onto the floor. Sherlock, John and Lestrade all came running up the stairs. Rosie had curled into a ball and was crying.

"Rosie…Rosie look at me." Sherlock pled with her. "Rosie, what is it? What have you found?"

John opened the bedroom door. "Holy shit. Sherlock, you better come and look at this. Lestrade, get Anderson. I'm going to take Rosie down stairs."

Sherlock went into Rosie bedroom. He too saw the message on the wall. The blood leave stains as it began to drip down the wall. He looked around and all he saw a rose sat on the windowsill attached to it was a card.

 _Warehouse 31…tonight…10pm…Be there or the girl gets it._

He pulled the card off and put into his pocket. He looked around the room and found nothing else that was out of place or not where it should have been. The killer was getting more and more clever, now he wanted to meet them. He wasn't afraid of Sherlock. Anderson and Lestrade walked into the room.

"Jesus, someone clearly doesn't like you two." Anderson said.

"Don't act like you care, Anderson. It doesn't suit you. Did you people find anything?" Sherlock turned to Lestrade.

"Yeah, the knife, serrated and covered in the blood probably the victims and will match the blood that we've found the wall. We're sending off the knife for finger print analysis." Anderson cut in.

"I doubt you'll find any." Sherlock muttered.

"What makes you say that? The killer left in the middle of the counter. Clearly not very clever." Anderson tried to out-smart Sherlock again.

"He's very clever because they clearly left it for us to find because they knew we wouldn't be able to trace it because there are no prints on it. If they didn't want us to find it because it had prints on they would have hid somewhere more hidden they a counter top. Anderson, you really are stupid."

Anderson opened his mouth to say something and then closed it realising that he wouldn't be able to win.

"Do you reckon this is the blood of our victim's Sherlock?" Lestrade queried.

"Yeah, I do. I would explain the lack of blood at scenes. The killer clearly collected the blood to use it here." Sherlock said calmly.

"That's disgusting." Lestrade said flabbergasted as Sherlock left the bedroom and went downstairs.

Sherlock went into the kitchen where Rosie and John were sitting. "Rosie, where about would you say your mother was killed."

"Sherlock."

"John, shush please. This is important. Where Rosie?"

Rosie stood and led Sherlock to the spot where she found the pool of her mother's blood.

"Here roughly." Rosie flinched as she pointed to spot.

"They never found the killer."

"No. Why?"

"I'm beginning to wonder whether the people that are killing now are the same people who killed your mother. Right I'm down here. John. Rosie." Sherlock walked out the front door and down the drive. They got into the taxi when Sherlock took out the card he found attached to the rose.

"Sherlock! We've got to turn around and tell Lestrade got a team, a plan. This guy is serious." John said annoyed.

"No, we can't tell them John. We are too involved in this and the police were alerted to the situation we may lose are only chance to stop this guy. We are all going there tonight. This is a much for Rosie as it is for me now. I've no idea what we will turn up to when we get there. The killer won't give himself away now, it's too soon and elaborate. He's going to give us more clues…if he does turn up, we won't be able to speak to him." Through all the rush of his thoughts there was a pause of stunned silence. "I need to speak to Mycroft."

"Mycroft? You never go to Mycroft for help." John almost laughed.

"I need his surveillance skills." Sherlock said plainly.

"Dad." Rosie whispered. "What happens if it' the same warehouse, where they found mum."

"The thought had crossed my mind." He took hold of his daughter's hand. "The game is on. He's watching you play this game and he's enjoying watching you relive your past."

"You never go to your brother for help." John said.

"He can be handy and he'll do whatever I want…within reason."

The taxi pulled up outside of 221B there was a sleek, black car parked.

"Mycroft's here." Sherlock said as he got out of the taxi.

Sherlock unlocked the door and they scaled the stairs to find Mycroft sat in an arm chair drinking tea with Mrs Hudson.

"Sherlock. Lovely to see you John, Rosie." He greeted them formally.

"You too, Mycroft." Rosie smiled. John greeted him in a similar way.

"This isn't just a friendly visit." Mycroft said getting to business.

"Mrs Hudson." Sherlock looked fondly over to his landlady. "As lovely as it is to see you. Do you mind if we have a minute to talk in private? Go do some cleaning."

"I'm not your housekeeper love." Mrs Hudson said as she stood up and left the room.

"You know where we've just come from." Sherlock asked.

"Yes, Rosie's old home." Mycroft stated.

"How do you know that?" Rosie inquired.

"My people are always following, my dear. To make sure that my dear brother doesn't get into too much trouble." Rosie nodded, she should have expected this from her uncle if he was anything like his brother.

Sherlock told Mycroft about what was going, the killings, the notes, the strange texts, the message on the bedroom wall and the note about the meeting tonight. Sherlock then proceeded to tell Mycroft about his theory that the person behind these murders may be the same person behind the murder of Rosie's mum. He then resulted to the fact that this murderer is playing a rather sadistic game with not only Sherlock but Rosie as well.

"This could get very dangerous, rather quickly." Mycroft raised his eyebrows.

"I know that's why I need some of your people close to us at all times tonight."

"What else do you want?"

"As much surveillance as you can get us. This is no longer just about me it's about Rosie as well, I want to make sure that she gets out of there alive." Sherlock glanced over to his daughter who looked very worried.

"I'll see what I can do. I'll call my people to get them set up some cameras in and around the warehouse right away. Sherlock, for God's sake if it gets out of hand and any of lives are at risk you run straight out of that warehouse and you get into one of cars that I have down there and you phone me straight away." This was the most caring that Sherlock had ever seen his brother, he assumed it was because John and Rosie were involved she he went to be sure on their safety.

"Thank you, Mycroft."

"Well I best be off." Mycroft set his cup down and stood up. He picked his umbrella. "Goodbye Sherlock, Rosie, John." He then took his leave in his usual way.

"John, teach Rosie how to us your gun. I want us all to have a gun tonight for safety."

"You have a gun?" Rosie exclaimed.

"You can't give Rosie a gun, she's only a kid." At the same time, as Rosie.

"She has no other way to protect herself tonight if we get separated. She's my daughter and I want her to be able to look after herself." Sherlock shot back at Rosie. "I have a couple of spare that I nicked form Scotland Yard."

"What happens if I get attacked from behind?" Rosie worried.

"You better hope that one of us is around to help you." Sherlock said plainly.

It was about six when Sherlock started to get ready, he was worried. Worried about what he was bringing his daughter into. Thinking about ever possibly idea about what could go wrong tonight and way to solve it. He'd taught Rosie how to use a gun, despite John's protests. John said that if Rosie didn't want to anyone then just shoot them in the legs, they'd be wounded but they stood a much better chance of living, and they wouldn't be able to chance after her. Sherlock kept glancing down at his watch as he paced the room. Rosie and John had gone to get something to eat before but Sherlock refused. Not long after they had gone out to eat with Mrs Hudson downstairs, Sherlock received a text message, from the unknown number.

 _I'm enjoying this game of our your both playing it so well. That's until she breaks after our little meeting tonight._

Sherlock huffed and narrowed his eyes. Another text came through, this time a picture message. It was a picture of the warehouse. It didn't look like that there was much there it appeared as if it was a big empty black void. You couldn't see much. Sherlock then looked at the picture closer and it appeared as if there was a body lying in a pool of blood. Sherlock assumed that this was the warehouse that they would be going to tonight and the one where Rosie's mums body had been left. A text came through.

 _Leave now. I can't wait to see you._

Sherlock threw his dressing gown off and wrapped his scarf around his neck and ran down the stairs whilst putting his coat on. He barged into Mrs Hudson's flat and dragged John and Rosie up.

"Sorry Mrs Hudson but we have to leave now. Had a couple of texts from our little friend. He wants to meet us now. Come on we need to go!

Sherlock hurried them out of the flat and into the text of a cab. Sherlock then began to wonder about what was going to happen to them over the next few hours and whether they would all come back in one piece. He looked at his daughter and knew that the killer was out to break her and hurt her. Nothing him would stop him from hurting her until she could no longer deal with it. That was his plan to taunt her. He had to protect Rosie, she was too vulnerable, he'd only just got her back he couldn't lose her just yet. If things go badly wrong, maybe it would Rosie that will be lying dead on that warehouse floor or a morgue table if he let her live but she couldn't cope anymore so killed herself instead of letting living with the pain. That wouldn't happen though he was Sherlock Holmes the great consulting detective. Some stupid little killer was going to get the better of him or his daughter.


	6. Chapter 6

Darkness was falling as night approached. The sky blood red from the sunset but it appears the darkness was claiming the night sky. It eerie feel to the impending danger that they possibly putting their lives into. Sherlock may have been wrong (which was highly unlikely) but maybe the killer wouldn't have been there and it may have just been another body for them to find. That wasn't his style though, he was enjoying the game and liked showing off too much not to show up after all of this. Even if it was just a taste of what was to come.

On the way to the warehouse all three noticed that three slick, black cars had started following at specific points as not to arouse suspicion from those around. Most would have noticed that three identical cars were following them but to Sherlock, John and Rosie it meant that Mycroft was watching them. Protection and safety, should they have needed it. Sherlock stopped the taxi a few streets from the warehouse and Mycroft's cars carried on driving past them and towards the warehouse. The trio walked the remainder of the way.

Sherlock fed them instructions as they walked down the road. "Once we are inside, don't talk. We want to proceed with caution. Stay on the alert and we don't want to alert them to the fact that we are there as we may miss a chance to catch them. Make sure that you are with someone always, Rosie especially you. I'll be fine if I get separated but if you two get separated do you best to find each other or me as quick as possible. Failing this, get out and find Mycroft's cars."

They reached the warehouses which ran alongside the river. Some were smaller than others but each had a metal numbered sign above the entrance. All the warehouses looked empty and looked as if they had been disused for years. The moonlight shone through holes in the roofs lighting up areas of the warehouses. They turned a corner which would lead them to the warehouse that they were looking for.

"Where are Mycroft's cars, dad?" Rosie asked in a small quiet voice.

"Over there in the shadows so they are hidden from the lack of light so, hopefully, only we know where they are and nobody else does." Sherlock pointed. Sherlock then got out his phone.

"You are you phoning?" John whispered.

"Lestrade." The detective replied in a similar volume.

"Why? You never go to police for help." His flatmate was confused.

"I need the police to be alert if this goes horrible wrong. Just listen." Sherlock dialled Lestrade and put the phone on loudspeaker and turned the phone down for only his friends to hear.

"Hello?" Greg answered almost immediately.

"I need a favour." Sherlock spoke.

"What is it?" The DI asked worried.

"If you don't get a message either me, John or Rosie within the next hour, come straight to warehouse 31 down by the river. Do you understand?"

"Why? Where is it? What are you doing there?" Greg was clearly lost.

"It's the one where Rosie's mum was found. It has something to do with our recent murders. Look just promise me you'll be here if you hear nothing from us in the next hour." Sherlock was starting to get annoyed.

"You found something in the house didn't you idiot. Why didn't you tell me?"

"This could go horribly wrong. If I had come with police this there was a much higher chance of it going wrong. This is personal now."

"What do you mean?"

"I will later. Just be here." Sherlock growled.

"I'll get a team together. I'm expecting a good reason Sherlock."

Sherlock hung up on Lestrade and pocketed his phone and they headed around the corner. Noiselessly they made their way towards the warehouse with the number '31' placed high above it. Once again, they paused just in front of warehouse 31 and Sherlock indicated the cameras that Mycroft had set up. 5 in totally outside and however many once they got inside. Rosie had turned an unhealthy shade of white although because of the circumstances Sherlock didn't blame her. Sherlock slipped his hand into his daughters. Both John and Sherlock looked at each other and knew that her anxiety must be off the scale by now. With a deeper breath, Sherlock began to walk forward into the open warehouse with John on one side and Rosie on his other.

Once inside, it was a lot darker than they had expected it to be there eyes had to adjust to the sudden difference in light. Compared to the outside, with moonlight and street lights to the light them up, the windows barely let in any light. They walked in to the only room which was of considerable size, large and wide. A staircase at the back, which led to a walk way up above them, and several pillars was all that Sherlock could make out. As with the floor that they were on above them it was also considerably dark. All three of them knew that anyone could be hiding in the shadows. The darkness gave the killer an edge which put them in danger. All three continued forward with caution. The closer to the middle they got, they could make out a shape on the floor. It was just as Sherlock had predicted a body from the picture earlier.

"Come on Rosie." A female voice called out. The voiced echoed throughout. Sherlock could tell that it was a recording though.

"Who are you?" Sherlock called.

"Don't be shy, Rosie." Rosie gasped and dropped to the floor. Tears rolling down her checks. John crouched down to support her.

"I asked who you were" Sherlock shouted.

"He won't hurt you. He's a friend." Still the same female voice. Rosie's head was in her hands sobbing and John had his arm around her shoulders. Suddenly he realised, that he too knew that voice. His eyes widened the voice was a recording of Rosie's mother. John looked confused at Sherlock.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" His shouting getting louder and angrier. "How did you get her mother's voice on recording."

"You don't have to be afraid." The recording said again. As soon as the voice stopped speaking a blinding light was cast across the room. The body was lit up. Rosie's mother's face was projected onto a wall causing her to cry out even more. The presented in the exact way the news had presented it. A single bullet hole to head. It looked like her mother but how was that possible. She had been buried. A fake body with a face mask. No. Sherlock studied the body more and realised that the bullet hole wasn't the same size. A different calibre bullet had been used. Sherlock's head was a whirl with thoughts. Sherlock's eyes narrowed it was an odd mistake to make. The recordings had to be gotten whilst she was alive. A microphone in the house it had to be it sounded like she was introducing someone to Rosie. It wasn't a forced conversation it sounded very relaxed. But before he could speak his deductions another voice spoke out. This time it was a voice that Sherlock recognised. A voice that Sherlock had wondered how long it would have been before he heard it again. A voice that filled him with both excitement and anger.

"It's been a while. Missed me?"

"Moriarty." Sherlock growled.


	7. Chapter 7

"I've missed our little games Sherlock."

"It's been you all along. What do you want after all this time?" Sherlock called out to Moriarty.

"Don't deny it Sherlock. You've missed me haven't you. Not even the tiniest little bit?" Jim teased Sherlock. "I bet you have Rosie."

"She doesn't know you." John jumped in defending Sherlock.

"Oh, yes she does. It's me Rosie. The man your mum was introducing you to on them recordings. Uncle Jim" Moriarty sung his name I the way that he usually does.

"I know his voice, dad. He's a bad man, he made my do things she didn't want to" Rosie whispered just enough for only Sherlock and John to hear.

"Come on Rosie, you must remember me. Uncle Jim."

"Yeah I do. You made my do things that she should never have done." Rosie shouted through her tears.

"Wrong." Moriarty shouted angrily at her. "My sweet, I never made her do them things. She chose to do them herself and she came to me when she wanted to do even worse and she needed my help." His voice then turned into a sinister story teller. "Then she hurt Uncle Jim's feelings and didn't repay what she took. She stole from me and hurt my feelings. No one steals from me and I made sure that she paid for what she did."

"You killed her didn't you." Rosie shouted. Moriarty chuckled. "Didn't you."

"My dear. I never killed her nor have I killed any of those people you've been looking at recently."

"What do you mean? Sherlock?" John asked confused whilst Sherlock just looked at him puzzled. John was still comforting Rosie how knew none of this would be doing her mental state any good.

"What I mean is that… I didn't do it." Moriarty snarled. "She never loved you Rosie. She preferred the drugs over you. She worked for me so she could fund her habit. The worse the crime the more I paid her. But then one day she was craving it so bad I just paid her but then she didn't repay this loan, I had to do something about it."

"Your lying." Rosie screamed.

"I love you, Rosie." Another recording of her mother. Sherlock couldn't see Moriarty dancing in the shadows.

"Stop it. Stop it now. You've had your fun." Sherlock called out.

"Why stop when I'm ahead. I'm enjoying this far too much." Moriarty sung.

"So, you just killed those people to taunt at Rosie. Just to wind her up. Been lied to for years."

"I'm a professional. I never killed those people. Get them."

The spotlight went out and a door slammed. Sherlock began to run up the stairs leaving John and Rosie. Gunshots began to sound and John threw Rosie down to the floor. They were suddenly being surrounded by masked men. John stood up but was tackled back down to the floor.

"John!" Rosie screamed as she sat up. She saw a gap and made a run for it. All she had to do was reach one of Mycroft's cars and then she would have been safe.

Rosie was then grabbed from behind. She aimed her gun behind for the man's legs. She pulled the trigger and the man screamed in pain and let Rosie go.

"Bitch just shot my foot. Someone get after her." A gruff pained voice shouted out.

John sat up disorientated with his vision. He sat up looking around for Rosie but he couldn't see her. He felt on the floor for his gun. He heard that Rosie had shot someone and her felt pride for the teenager. Despite everything that had gone on tonight she had still managed to shoot someone behind her in the foot without really being able to see.

"Jo-"Rosie started before being grabbed again and having a piece of rope shoved in her mouth and she felt her hands and legs suddenly being tied up.

John saw Rosie being dragged away by a man who was at least six-foot, five and muscular dragging Rosie away. He wouldn't be able to do anything, John aimed his gun as he realised that this would be the only way to take him down. Before he could get a shot on the man, John was once again being tackled to the floor. They must of hid in the shadows waiting to attack, a fatal mistake for the trio. Moriarty had the upper hand. John stood up.

"Rosie!" It was useless and John it. The man who had tackled John the second time went to punch him but go got in first and broke the henchman's nose. As the henchman grabbed at his nose, John swung his leg around and kicked the back of the man's legs and he fell to the floor. The man attempted to grab onto John but John grabbed at the pressure points at the back of the necks and shoulder. John knew that if he squeezed hard enough the man would pass out – which he eventually did. John bound the man's limbs with some rope the man must have dropped.

John ran outside desperately trying to find Rosie but it was too late. Hopefully Mycroft's cars and or cameras would have picked up something. He reached outside but he found Mycroft's people sat there as if nothing had happened. He searched the area but nothing no trace of anyone. There was no side exit the only way out was the front and Mycroft's people would have seen Rosie being dragged away. He heard footsteps running towards him. John drew his gun and aimed.

"It's me. Moriarty got away. Where's Rosie?" Sherlock said trying to catch his breath.

"I don't know we were attacked. I was tackled and bashed my heard by the time I came to and got up to stop the guy I was tackled again and having to him from killing me. I came out here and couldn't see anything. She shot a guy in the foot though. I'm sorry Sherlock, I tried I really did but it was too late."

"There was nothing you could do." Sherlock muttered. "Hopefully, Mycroft got something."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up they were just sat there as if nothing happened." John said solemnly.

"Come on. Let's get in a car before anything happens." They set off towards the cars and climbed in. "Call Mycroft. Tell him it didn't go to plan, Rosie's been taken. We need to here for Lestrade."

"Of course, sir."

"You didn't do see anything, did you?" Sherlock asked.

"Nope. We saw nothing. Sorry sir." The driver responded confused.

The driver put Mycroft on speaker. "John, you speak to him. I need to phone Lestrade." Sherlock got out and leaned against the car.

"John. What happened? We had blackouts on the cameras and we don't understand why the happened. Are you all ok?" Mycroft asked.

"Moriarty. He was waiting for us there was nothing we could do. Rosie got taken and your guys saw nothing. This was well planned. Lestrade is on his way with a team. We're going to need you to."

"Dammit. I'm on my way. I'll be there in ten minutes. Stay put in the cars, we can't risk anything else happening." Mycroft hung up just as Sherlock climbed back in the car. "Your brothers pissed off. The cameras cut out and he doesn't know how it happened. How did they get away Sherlock? In the shadows around the side so no-one saw." 

"No. It's all river. River...John the river."

"That doesn't seem like Moriarty not dramatic enough." John said.

"It avoids being seen though." Silence followed. "I let this happen, she going to get hurt now because of me. I should have left her at home with Mrs Hudson. I should have just been me and you."

"There was nothing you could have done Sherlock. You couldn't have predicted what the man had planned. We will do whatever we can to find here. It's not going to be just us to Lestrade will bring half of Scotland Yard. Mycroft, well Mycroft is the government so we all know what he can do."

They looked out and they could see blue lights coming towards them. They police were being closely followed by Mycroft and his people. Lestrade got out with Donovan and Anderson (Sherlock let out an almighty sigh). Mycroft also got out of one of his cars and both men walked over to Sherlock.

"Look what you've caused now freak." Donovan shouted at Sherlock.

"Piss off." Sherlock retorted.

"Sherlock I have my best people out looking." Mycroft told his younger brother.

"It's not enough." Sherlock snapped. "She's going to be emotionally hurt. God knows what Moriarty is doing to her. It probably far worse than what he did to her just now. She'll probably get hurt or worse killed. It's all my fault I should never have brought her. I didn't think this through enough. I caused this."

Everyone stood in silence.

"The freak does have emotions." Anderson joked.

Sherlock went to go for Anderson. Both Lestrade and John had to stop Sherlock from hitting Anderson.

"Listen, Sherlock. Your no use to Rosie like this." John whispered into his ear and Sherlock knew that he was right. He relaxed and John and Lestrade let him go.

"Fine, I'll tell you what happened." Sherlock said annoyed. "Make notes, if any of you are capable of that, because I doubt you have the mental capacity to process your own names let alone what I'm about to tell you."


	8. Chapter 8

The police stood in silence and listened to what Sherlock was telling them in a brief yet informative manner making sure that they got all the key facts that had gone over the past few hours. They all stood nodding and taking notes.

"We expect that he escaped by boat. As none of Mycroft's car or cameras picked up anyone leaving the grounds due to blackouts most likely caused by one of Moriarty's men. Do we know why they occurred, brother?"

"We aren't entirely sure, brother mine. The cameras briefly blacked out at first it was static and then the signal came back but it was as if nothing had happened. At first it was when we can assume that they came in to the building and the second when they kidnapped Rosie."

"Right." Lestrade shouted to address his team. "Half of you get on the river. Get hold of the river police if need be. The other half of you get are going to search this warehouse yard from top to bottom. Look for anything to help us find Rosie. We are going to find this girl. Come on then let's get to it."

Sherlock's buzzed. He been text by Moriarty.

 _Don't try and find her. I'll bring her to you, I'll be done with her pretty soon._

"What does her mean by _be done with her_. He's not going to kill her, is he?"

"I don't know John. But these cryptic texts are what makes him so unpredictable." Sherlock said worried.

His phone beeped again. It was video message. He called over Mycroft and Lestrade. "It's a video."

"Play it." Lestrade said. "It could help us find her."

"Is there any point? He said we won't find her until he lets go."

"Well it might let her go that she's alive still." Mycroft told his younger brother.

All four of them crowded around the phone to watch the video that was about to play on the phone. Sherlock pushed the play button. A room, appeared on the screen. It was dull room, repetitive grey. The essence was it wasn't a place that you wanted to be in. No windows but there was a small lantern that was lighting up the room. The camera was faced into the centre of the room and it was focused on Rosie was crying, her eyes darting around the room tied to a chair by her arms and legs. Her mouth gagged. A metal door slammed.

"Smile, Rosie. It's not that bad. I could think of all lot worse things that could have happened to you. At least your alive unlikely that mother of yours." Moriarty sung as he walked into shot of the camera. Rosie turned her head to look at her kidnapper.

All four of the grimaced as they looked at the face that they knew all too well. Moriarty turned to look at the camera and leaned in to wave and smile in his menacing way. He then turned back to face Rosie and leaned in at her right shoulder squatting to be at the same height as her.

"Now do think of saying anything because Daddy will be able to hear you. They can see you and hear you now as we have our little conversation. Their watching, smile though for daddy."

"It's a livestream." Sherlock growled.

Lestrade turned to notice the crowd of officers that had gathered. "Right you lot get back to work. Nothing for you to see here. We still have a missing girl and you standing around here isn't going to help find her." The crowd died away and Lestrade turned around to face the phone again.

"Now this is my work done. Enjoy the show! You know what to Seb." Moriarty turned and left the room.

The man, Seb, then came into view of the camera. He walked around Rosie with her eyes following all the way around. He leant in behind her and snarled into her ear.

"The boss, wants me to talk you suffer and feel embarrassed and guilty all for you little friends to watch this." Out of back pocket Seb pulled out a pair of scissors. He cut away at Rosie's sleeves away. Sherlock, John, Mycroft and Lestrade all watched in horror. Rosie's sleeves fell to floor and Seb moved onto cutting away at her jeans. Once he'd finished, Seb took one of the blades and began to cut at her arms and legs.

"He's trying to make her look like the people that they've been killing." John whispered. "We need to find her, he's going to kill her."

Rosie was screaming in pain with her sobs. The cuts were dripping blood down her arms and legs. Rosie tried to even out her breathing to help with her anxiety. But then her whole body went tense.

"Ahhh!" Rosie screamed in pain.

Seb had beaten her arms with a metal pole causing the wounds to open even more

"I thought that you were told not to talk." Seb spat. He hit Rosie again this time on the legs. Rosie looked at her wounds and realised that they weren't as bad as they could have been. She felt devastated that her friends and family were having to watch this.

"Now let's increase the fun, shall we?" Seb asked. As he drew out a knife that looked like the one that had found in Rosie's house. "Now. We have choice would you like me to cut you or you do it yourself." Seb united the gage in Rosie's mouth.

"I'm hardly going to cut myself, am I." Rosie snapped.

"Right then." Seb united Rosie's arms and held it out in front of her. He placed the knife down onto her arm and dug hard and drew it painful slow across her arm. Rosie screamed out in pain. "Shut up." Seb slapped Rosie across the face.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Rosie said as she sat up.

"The boss wanted me to create a little bit of entertainment for your little friends. I think it's time for a little video. Don't you?"

The camera angle changed on the screen that Sherlock and his friends were crowded around. It was on a TV screen and then it played.

"Jim, Jim please…I will pay you back." Rebecca begged.

"It's ok Bex. I understand, you need the money. You need a fix and work hasn't been coming recently." Moriarty said lovingly.

"Yeah. It's Rosie is driving me nuts. She just never shuts up. But I can't keep risking my life."

"So, you love her more than me. You're going to let your sentiment get in the way of us. I can you work that won't risk your life but I won't pay as well and you won't be able to get the drugs. Your risking your life on these drugs so what's the difference, eh." Moriarty touched Bex's face.

"Your right I can let her stop us. Taking drugs is no different to the work. Soon it will just be me and you Jim. We can run away and be together, no Rosie. I love you, Jim." Bex kissed Moriarty lightly on the lips.

The video paused before the screen went black. Rosie's sobs could be heard the camera changed back to being on Rosie and the tears were rolling down her face. Her arm placed onto her knee. Everything that Rosie had known was a lie. She was beginning to feel dizzy and light-headed probably due to the blood loss.

"You bastard." Rosie said barely audible.

"You what?" Seb walked up her and place the knife up to her neck. "Do you wanna say that again? One false move and I will cut your throat open."

The door shut again. Moriarty walked into view.

"Seb stop." He had Seb the scissors. "Less damage, only once and then let her go." Moriarty turned and left the room.

Seb cut across Rosie's neck once and then Rosie felt something strike the back of her head and then she passed out. The livestream ended. Sherlock, John, Mycroft and Greg all looked at each other they didn't know what to do. No-one had found anything nothing to lead them to where Rosie was being kept. They blow to the head could have done some serious damage, they needed to find her fast.

"What do we do now?" John asked.

"They'll have let her go." Sherlock said calmly.

"She'll need hospital, Greg." Mycroft addressed Lestrade

"I'll get an ambulance down here." Lestrade walked away from the group.

"Right, let's go Anderson's work that he seems incapable of doing."

Rosie came around and found herself lying in an alleyway. Everything left stiff as Rosie sat up she became light headed and she lied back down on to the floor. As she leant up against the wall and looked at her cuts and felt the one on her neck and they'd stopped bleeding a long time ago. She supported herself on the wall as she stood and stretched her limbs nothing was broken. She waited a few minutes to let the dizziness pass before she started to walk. She found her phone still in her pocket and looked at the time and she hadn't been out for very long at all.

Once she made herself out onto the street she found that she was only a few streets away from the warehouse. She had paid attention to the route they had taken on the way and she found her way back to the warehouses. She hoped that they police were still looking for her and that she one would find her.

She rounded the corner and saw blue flashing lights. She was relieved to see that her dad, John, Mycroft and Lestrade where still here. She began to walk over to them but before she could have reached them she had collapsed onto the floor. The four men ran over to Rosie who was lying on the floor.

"Can we get a paramedic over here please!" John shouted out. "Rosie…Rosie can you hear me?" 

The paramedics rushed over and got Rosie onto a trolley and off into the ambulance. Sherlock climbed into the back and told Mycroft and John to follow them to the hospital. His phone buzzed.

 _I enjoyed that. You better find the killer though you don't know what they are capable of xx – JM_

 _Why are doing this? – SH_

 _I enjoy hurting people and watching them break around me xx – JM_


	9. Chapter 9

Sherlock paced up and down the waiting area in the hospital waiting for a doctor to talk to him about Rosie. John was sat on a chair nervously bouncing his leg. A doctor walked through the door, Sherlock spun on his foot and John looked up.

"Rosie, is awake and everything is ok. No lasting damage and no damage to the brain. She's awake now. You can go and see her if you like." The doctor told Sherlock and John.

Sherlock walked straight out of the door and down to the ward that Rosie was staying on. He walked in and saw his daughter lying there asleep. Sherlock went and sat on the chair beside her bed and let her sleep. He sat on his phone and he sat there for hours whilst Rosie slept. Rosie stirred and woke up. She sat up.

"Ow, my head." Rosie said.

"Oh, good your awake." Sherlock said not looking up from his phone.

"Hi Rosie, glad to see you're ok." She replied sarcastically.

"I know your fine. I saw your arm during the livestream. You rested it on your leg and you put your finger into a circle. Like divers to show you're ok." Rosie went to open her mouth to speak but Sherlock stopped her. "Yes, I saw but only I did. So, how are you?"

"I'm good. Sore. I think that's it. I don't get it, he seemed like such a nice guy dad."

"That's what he's good at making you think one thing but he really means the other. Are you sure you're ok? You went through some pretty harrowing things last night." Sherlock asked.

"I'm fine. I'm going to get some questions over these scars, though aren't I?"

"Probably." Sherlock shifted in his chair.

"I don't get it though." Rosie said through the silence.

"Don't get what?" Sherlock replied.

"Why mum would work for a man like Moriarty. She had done so well with the drugs and then she meets a man like him who puts her back on the drugs. Let herself get so bad again. She was a criminal. She wasn't a bad person. She loved me…at least I thought she did."

"People do stupid things for the people they love. She did love you and maybe she still did love you."

"I'm not so sure. But I have you, John, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft." Sherlock laughed at that name. Rosie rolled her eyes and carried on talking. "Greg. Despite everything with my mum. I loved her and enjoyed everything. She looked after me. But I think I've got used to everything here and I love all the consulting work. I wouldn't change that for the world."

"I'm going to let you rest for a bit."

Sherlock walked back to the waiting room to find John still sat on the same chair. However, this time he was asleep. Sherlock sat down beside John on the chair and found himself falling asleep. Sherlock woke up at the same time as John.

"How long have we been asleep?" John asked still half asleep.

Sherlock checked his watch. "About 4 hours. Come on, let's go find Rosie."

Both men stood up and walked back to Rosie and the doctors were satisfied enough that Rosie could be dismissed. They brought Rosie out to the taxi that was waiting for them. They sat in the taxi in silence whilst they drove back to 211B. Once they arrived they found one of Mycroft's cars parked outside. They left the taxi and climbed the stairs to their shared flat. They found Mycroft sat in one of the armchairs. Mrs Hudson followed them into the room.

"Oh Rosie, dear. How are you feeling?" She said whilst giving her a hug.

"I'm fine. Just a bit sore." Rosie said breaking free.

"How could you let this happen, Sherlock? You only just got her back and you've almost got her killed." Mrs Hudson said telling Sherlock off.

"I wasn't dad's fault. He couldn't have known what was going to happen. That Moriarty and his goons were going to be there." Rosie defended her dad.

"I think perhaps that you should take Rosie downstairs for some food perhaps. I can't imagine that she had eaten much since last night." Mycroft told Mrs Hudson.

Mrs Hudson led Rosie downstairs whilst Sherlock sat in the armchair opposite Mycroft and John sat on the sofa.

"What do you want Mycroft?"

"We don't know what caused the cameras, but we do know it was Moriarty."

"A 5 year old could have told me that. That doesn't lead us to being any closer to finding him and why he's murdering all these people." Sherlock snapped.

"So quick tempered brother mine. I've also been able to track a rough radius of where the livestream was coming from." Mycroft took out a map and lay it on the cluttered kitchen table.

Mycroft explained his findings. He showed John and Sherlock where they had been and drew a circle on the map, indicating the radius that they were working with. He told that there were various small lockups and warehouses that they could be working with. As Sherlock went to get his coat, Mycroft held him back and told him that he had his best people along with Lestrade on the case. Overnight, they had managed to already tackle 3 of the possible 10 locations in the radius. Sherlock just needed to sit tight until they had found something.

Mycroft left John and Sherlock on the passing note that the government would collapse without him. Sherlock couldn't keep still.

"Sherlock." John said to break the silence.

Sherlock ignored him.

"Sherlock listen to me please….I don't think we should take Rosie with us anymore."

Sherlock spun on his heel. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we shouldn't be taking Rosie with us anymore." John reiterated.

"Why ever not." Sherlock insulted by John's comments. "She's the only other one who understands what's happening and is of use."

"Sherlock, her mental health is more important. What happened to her today is enough to scar her not only physically but mentally also. Those scars no her body are going to be a constant reminder of what happened. That could overcome her. It could lead to more serious affects to her. Not only are you her legal guardian, you are her father. You can't do that to her." This was John's medical training speaking.

"What if she wants to be there John. I can't stop her. She has a right to know about her who her mother. I can't stop her from knowing that."

"Your right, you can't stop her from knowing. But you can tell her and keep involved without dragging her from crime scene to crime scene. She's a teenager, she needs to go to school. She needs to learn, make friends, get qualifications. She shouldn't be solving bloody murders dragging up her mothers drug dealer and probably murderer. That's no life for a teenage girl," John was getting more and more wound up. Sherlock was sat in his chair not listening. "Sherlock, listen too me! That girl isn't going to grow up and be you. She is far brighter and just because you led a sheltered life she won't be doing to the same."

Mrs Hudson run into the flat. "What on earth? Me and that poor girl can hear everything you are saying. She's been through enough these past few hours. She doesn't need her father and his best friend fighting."

Sherlock was still sat with his hand steepled sat in his arm chair. John walked out and went downstairs in order to calm down.

"He's got a point Sherlock. You can't keep putting her through his," She knelt down in front of him and placed a hand on his knee. "Listen to me. John is a doctor and he knows what's best for her. Sometimes you should really listen to him. You have helped me and now…I'm just trying to help you."

Mrs Hudson stood up and went back downstairs. Sherlock just sat in his chair and waited. The day turned into night and the sun began to set. John hadn't returned, Rosie was asleep and Sherlock was still sat in his chair – he was waiting for his phone to buzz.

 _Found it – MH_

 _And? – SH_

 _Nothing. I still think that you should come and have a look at. Tobacco Dock – MH_

Sherlock jumped out of his chair and grabbed his coat and scarf. For a brief second, he thought about taking his friends advice but decided that his daughter has a right to know. He went into Rosie's room and woke her up. They both got into a taxi and on the way Sherlock texted John, hoping that he would turn up. The taxi pulled up outside Tobacco Dock and they were escorted by a police car up to the lockup. As they got out the taxi, Sherlock was pleased to see that John had arrived but then he saw the both Anderson and Donovan where there too.

"Freak! Good to see that your able to look after children…. oh wait…. you're not." Anderson and Donovan sniggered.

"Listen here. That man that you so happen to abuse is amazing at what he does. If it wasn't him, you'd probably have both been out of jobs months probably years ago. He has spotted things your tiny minds would never have seen. These cases have been solved because of him. If it had been left to you the wrong people would have known and the wrong people could have been locked up for wrong reasons. As for what happened to me…. there was nothing he could have done. He set up a fool proof plan. That was until he came face to face with one of only two men that have been able to rival his abilities. He couldn't have planned for that. More pressingly, where were you two?" Silence… "I remember now, hiding away and when the time came you'd jump into the light in order to claim the glory as with most of his cases. So, before you decide that you want to jump and take the piss, I suggest you think about what this man has done for you and the abuse he has endured for your glory and success."

Anderson and Donovan stood in silence amazed at what had just come out of a 15 year olds mouth. Rosie turned on her heel and walked into the lockup. John and Lestrade stood around Sherlock.

"Oh she's definetly your daughter." Greg chuckled.

Sherlocks mouth turned upwards into a weak smile.


	10. Chapter 10

The trio along with Lestrade entered the lockup. Rosie confirmed this was the place that she was held captive. They walked into the room on that they were transmitting from…empty. Absolutely nothing that could link Moriarty or Rosie being held here. But Rosie remembered what the lockup looked like from the river. Rosie stood outside the door she was held in. She put her hand on the door handle and then took it off again. See did this a couple of times before John came up behind her and out his hand on her shoulder.

"You don't have to do this Rosie."

"I want to. I can't be afraid for the rest of my life. I need to find out the truth and to do that I have to take risks."

Rosie opened the door. Nothing. Except a note in the middle of the floor. Sherlock picked it up.

 _You'll hear from me again…maybe not straight away….but you will hear from me again._

 _Jim x_

"Dad?"

"He's gone…for now. Mycroft, as best you can track him down. We need to know what he's up to. I don't know if this means no more bodies for as long as he's gone or whether it's just him we just need to an eye on whatever is going on."

"I think I recognised him. The guy who attacked me. I've seen him before." Rosie said amongst the silence.

"You've Sebastian Moran before?" Sherlock was excited.

"It was the day I came to stay with you. I came into John's surgery. I'd been beaten up by someone but I was never able to remember his face. As hard as I tried I could never picture his face in my mind. But then yesterday when came in and hurt me, suddenly it all came back to me. I remembered my attacker because he was stood right in front of me, ready to hurt me again."

"This is brilliant. Fantastically brilliant." Sherlock said as he excitedly paced around the room.

"Sherlock, would you care to enlighten us? You know seeing as it might help us." Lestrade asked.

"Isn't it just convenient that my daughter that I've not been allowed to see for 10 years ends up living with me after he mother winds up being killed and then becomes heavily involved with my latest case along with her mother's murderer. It all started when Moriarty walked into her life, however many years ago. But six months ago, when he came back after being away, wormed her back onto the drugs and used that to get the video and audio that we heard. Then once he got her addicted he used that and began turning her mother against Rosie and making her feel worthless and that she was a burden on her life. Rosie was left with no family and she couldn't bare being in that house she began living on the streets, she had the money that mother had so she could afford clothes and some degree of food. The first murder occurs on the day that Rosie is attacked which happens to be near John's surgery on a day that John and at a time only John was working so that she would have to see John. The attacker ends up being Sebastian Moran, one of her mother's killer's henchmen. Now what does this suggest to me? Moriarty always wanted to reunite me and Rosie and have her living with me because we all know how caring you are you wouldn't let her live on the streets, so you brought her home. You originally thought about calling social services but thought against to see if you would let me with us so you could keep an eye on her, but it was dependent on whether or I was concerned…which I wasn't especially after I worked out who it was. Now that she is living with her father and having a brother like Mycroft means that social services won't be bothering us anytime soon. Obviously, if Rosie is living with us she'll be visiting crime scenes with us and what's a perfect first case to taunt her with? The death of her mother," The faces on his shocked flatmates. He finished. "There is a lot of chance work in what I just said but I think Moriarty got exactly what he wanted."

"That was bloody amazing." Lucy said wonderstruck.

"It was just all pieces of a puzzle fitting together." Sherlock grinned.

"Sherlock…. come and have a look at this." Lestrade called.

Sherlock rushed into the room Lestrade was calling from. Lestrade had a box in his hands. He pulled out two serrated knives.

"Anderson get them examined see if they match our victims blood, but you won't be finding any fingerprints however because they would have been clean. But its still a good start finding out whether or not those blades were actually used to kill those people."

"What do we do now?" Lestrade asked

"We wait. We wait for another body for him to strike again because he is bound to." Sherlock said excitedly.

Weeks passed and nothing. Rosie was lying on her bed when suddenly she received an anonymous text message.

 _I want to see you later. Meet me at Regents Park at 12 0'clock…. don't tell your little friends though. Don't want them spoiling our fun xxx_

Rosie sat and reread and reread the text message over and over. She stood and paced around her bedroom thinking about the text. Should she go? Was it trap? Was she going to make it out alive? She got dressed and suck out window and dropped onto the street below without passing any suspicion. She got into a taxi and drove over to Regents Park.

John went and knocked on the Rosie's door. No answer. He knocked again. Still nothing. He pushed the door open.

"Lucy?"

No answer. John went to find Sherlock.

"Have you seen Rosie?"

"Not since yesterday. Why?"

"Well she isn't in the flat."

Rosie sat in the taxi and felt her phone vibrate countless times against her leg…she ignored them. They realised that she was gone pretty quickly then. She was a dead girl walking if she got out of this alive. She pulled up outside Regents Park. She looked at her phone…17 missed calls. Then another text.

 _Meet me by the open-air theatre xxx_

Lucy walked through the park. It was a beautiful day the sun was bright, not a cloud in the sky. She walked past a smiled at several people. She then found herself at the entrance of the theatre. She rounded the corner to climb up into the auditorium. She was greeted by an all too familiar face…Jim Moriarty in his dress suit.

"Rosie! How nice to see you. These are much nice circumstances than the last time. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist a text message from me. Come take a seat." Jim sung.

Rosie confidently sat down beside Moriarty. "What do you want?

"My, my you don't like hang around do you. You are so much like your father. Just not quite as psychotic."

"My father is not a psychopath. You're the psychopath here."

"Feisty too. I'm not trying to hurt you Rosie. I just need you to see things for what they really are." Moriarty tried to hide the smirk.

Rosie felt some anger rising within her. "What's the point of this then? Why kill those innocent people? Why scar my physically and mental? Why taunt me with your games? If you didn't want to hurt me, why do what you did to me? Why remind me of what you did to my mum?"

Jim laughed. "I never did any of those things. Anyway, your mother was pathetic. Despite everything that happened she still came crawling back for more didn't she."

Rosie was frustrated. "You think this is some sort of sick game to you. My mum what you were, and you didn't like that. That's why you killed her, she was too close. Now your tormenting me to get back at her. What's the point? She dead and it's not working."

"Well," he was debating something. "I actually think I'm quite funny. Real kick this is."

"You're insane."

"Thank you," He went to stand up but then sat back down again. He drew something from his waistband and place it in Rosie's lap. "Your mother wanted you to have this."

Rosie picked the gun up. She gasped and held back a sob. She ran her finger across the engraved writing.

 _This gun, my love, should maybe be used on yourself_

Rosie fought back the tears. "My mother did not think those things."

"I heard different."

"How are you doing this?" The anger still rising.

"I have my ways. You should know this now. But what you do need to know is your mother never loved you for a long time. Get that into your damaged head. You won't win…it's too late for that now. We aren't going to play a game anymore. You're weak.

You can solve all the murders in the world, but you won't be say I did them. So, you, Sherlock, John can carry on solving them but its all for nothing. They'll just keep on coming. Its all going to end in heartbreak for you and your friends," Moriarty stood up and adjusted his suit. "Give up now whilst you're ahead of the game. Just give a message you're ready to give up," He began walking down the stairs and then turned on his heel. "That gun it's a message from mum. Don't be so dull and ordinary." He carried on walking.

Rosie called out to him. "If you think I'm going to end it all your very, very wrong."

"We'll see," He carried on walking and sung back. "We'll see…."

Rosie sat uncomfortably on the seat. She checked her phone – 17 missed calls had suddenly doubled. She walked back through the park and began listening to the voicemails. They were worried both John and Sherlock. She couldn't go home and face the shame, that's what she'd made John and Sherlock look like fools.

She began to cry. She just walked around the park to clear her mind but I just wasn't walking. She walked out the park and onto the busy London streets. She soon clocked a black car that he'd been following her since she left the park. She turned down a side street and eventually stopped. The window rolled down and Mycroft beckoned her into the car. Rosie climbed in.

The car pulled up outside 221B. This was it, time to face her demons.

She walked into the living room and the dams gave way and she just broke down in front of John and Sherlock. She collapsed to the floor in a ball. She calmed herself and explained what happened. She placed the gun on the table.

"Sherlock what do we do?" John worried.

"We carry on playing the game. Its not a simple as he's making it out to be."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Transcript taken from: . #cutid1**

Once again weeks passed, and the trio heard nothing. It appeared that Moriarty and his gang had gone under the radar again avoiding. John was reading his newspaper whilst Rosie was scrolling through John's laptop. Suddenly, Sherlock burst through the flat door covered in blood. He slammed the end of his harpoon into the floor. Both John and Rosie looked up wide-eyed.

"Well that was tedious." Sherlock said frustrated.

"You went on the tube like that?!" John said baffled.

Frustrated Sherlock replied, "None of the cabs would take me."

He turned and left the room. John and Rosie looked at each other just as confused as each other.

After he got changed, Sherlock paced about the living room with his harpoon looking between John and Rosie. "Nothing?"

"Military coup in Uganda." Rosie began.

John chuckled. "Another photo of you with the, er…." He pointed to the photo.

"Oh, um, cabinet reshuffle."

Sherlock roared with rage and began complaining about his lack of cigarettes. Mrs Hudson came in and he began begging with her. When she didn't know he took his frustrations out on her and began making deductions that made her quite upset about her 'friend' Mr Chatterjee. She slammed the door after her. John begged that she went after her and apologise.

"I need a case!" Sherlock shouted.

At equal volume, John replied with "You've just solved one…."

"By harpooning a dead pig, apparently" Rosie cut in.

"That was this morning," he started drumming his fingers on the chair he was sat on. "When's the next one?"

"Nothing on the website?" Rosie asked.

Sherlock handed John his laptop whilst Rosie got up to look. He then began to tell the story of bluebell, the disappearing luminous rabbit. Then a look of joy appeared on his face.

"Ah! What am I saying? This is brilliant! Phone Lestrade. Tell him there's an escaped rabbit."

John and Rosie looked at each other. "Are you serious?"

"It's this, or Cluedo."

Both John and Rosie explained why they were never going to play that again. Then the door bell rung.

"Single ring." John said.

"Maximum pressure" Rosie joined.

"Just under half

second" Sherlock finished.

"Client." All three of them said simultaneously.

Soon after the client walked in and explained his situation and then the trio found themselves watching a documentary.

"What did you see?" Sherlock inquired.

"I…I was just about to say." Henry Knight, the client, nervously said.

"Yes, in a TV interview. I prefer to do my own editing."

Henry explained that his father was murdered in Dewer's Hollow (an ancient name for the devil) and the devil was what he saw that night. It was a massive creature with black fur and red eyes. It tore at his father and that was as much as he remembered. The next day was found wondering the moor, they never found his body. John reckoned dog or wolf, Sherlock however thought genetic experiment. When Sherlock stifled a laugh, Henry explained no-one apart from the TV took him seriously. He also thought that Sherlock wouldn't be able to help him. Henry stood up and began to make way for the door.

"Because of what happened last night." Sherlock said before Henry left.

"Why, what happened last night?" Rosie asked.

"How…how do you know?

"I didn't know; I noticed," Sherlock quickly reeled off facts. "You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning. You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl in the seat across the aisle fancied you. Although you were initially keen, you've now changed your mind. You are, however, extremely nervous to have your first cigarette of the day. Sit down, Mr Knight, and do please smoke, I'd be delighted."

Henry looked at John and Rosie and went to sit back down searching through his jacket pocket. Sherlock carried on.

"Punched-out holes where your ticket's been checked…" John tried stopping him, but he continued. "The train napkin that you used to mop up the spilled coffee: the strength of the stain shows that you don't take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it and round your lips and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast – or the nearest thing those trains can manage. Probably a sandwich."

"How do you know it was disappointing?" Henry half sobbed.

"Is there any other type of breakfast on a train? The girl – female's handwriting quite distinctive. Wrote her phone number down on the napkin. I can tell from the angle she wrote at that she was across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later – after she got off, I imagine – you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidently smudging the numbers. You've been over the last four digits yourself with another pen, so you wanted to keep the number. Just now, though, you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you're not that into her after all. Then there's the nicotine stains on your fingers…your shaking fingers. I know the signs. No chance to smoke on the train; no time to roll one before you got a cab here. It's just after nine fifteen. You're desperate. The first train from Exeter to London leaves at five forty-six a.m. You got the first one possible, so something important must have happened last night. Am I wrong?"

Henry stared in amazement. "No. You're right. You're completely, exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you were quick."

"Its my job."

John played with idea that Henry had created the beast as a way to cope with his parents death. Henry said that his therapist, Dr Mortimer, said the same thing. She said that he had to return to Dartmoor to face his demons. Sherlock brought the conversation back to the hound.

"What did you see?"

"Footprints – on the exact spot where I saw my father's body torn apart."

"Man's or a woman's?" Rosie asked.

"Neither. They were…"

"Is that it? Nothing else. Footprints. Is that all?" Sherlock interrupted.

"Yes, but they were…" 

"No sorry, Dr Mortimer wins. Childhood trauma masked by an invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr Knight. Thank you for smoking."

"No, but what about the footprints?"

"Oh, they're probably paw prints; could be anything, therefore nothing," Sherlock lent back and gestured towards the door. "Off to Devon with you; have a cream tea on me."

Sherlock stood up and buttoned his suit. He went into the kitchen when Henry turned to look at him. "Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound."

Sherlock stopped exactly where he was and turned back around. "Say that again."

"I found the footprints; they were…."

"No, no, no, your exact words. Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them."

Henry thought for a second and then repeated the words. "Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic…hound."

Rosie spoke for the first time in a while. "oh…"

"I'll take the case."

John was shocked. "Sorry, what?"

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It's very promising."

John continued knowing her dad had misunderstood. "no, no, no, sorry, what? A minute ago footprints were boring; now they're very promising?"

"It's nothing to do with footprints." Rosie said. John shot her glace.

"As ever, John, you weren't listening. Baskerville: ever heard of it?" Sherlock asked.

"Vaguely. It's very hush-hush."

"Sounds like a good place to start." Sherlock said excitedly.

"Ah! You'll come down, then?" Henry was hopeful.

"No, I can't leave London at the moment. Far too busy. Don't worry – putting my best man and woman onto it." He walked over and patted John and Rosie on the shoulder. "Always rely on John and Rosie to send me the relevant data, as he never understands a word of it. She's not so bad."

"What are you talking about, you're busy? You don't have a case! A minute ago you were complaining…"

"Bluebell, John." Rosie and Sherlock interrupted. Sherlock carried on. "I've got bluebell! The case of the vanishing, glow-in-the-dark rabbit! NATO's in uproar."

Confused Henry asked. "Oh, sorry, no, you're not coming, then?"

Sherlock shook his head. John groaned. "Okay." John walked over to mantle. "Okay.

He lifted the skull up that sat on the side and threw them at Sherlock, who caught them and in turn through them over his shoulder. Rosie chuckled.

"I don't need these anymore. I'm going to Dartmoor." He then walked out the living room.

Henry rushed to his feet. "Er, sorry, so you are coming."

Sherlock turned back into the room. "Twenty-year-old disappearance; a monstrous hound? I wouldn't miss this for the world."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Transcript taken from . #cutid1**

Sherlock, John and Rosie drove into Grimpen Village having been out onto the moors to investigate the surrounding area and look at the Baskerville compound. The three of them went into the pub. As John stood talking to the landlord, Sherlock and Rosie got bored of waiting around inside. They went outside, they both spotted the tour guide.

"Let's go have a little chat." Sherlock whispered to his daughter.

The pair of them went over to the tour guide as he finished his phone call.

"Mind if we join you?"

The tour guide shrugged and Rosie and Sherlock sat down on the bench. Sherlock asked if he'd ever seen the "hound" in his days of being a tour guide. He was reluctant to admit that he had seen it. Sherlock wanted proof. John joined Sherlock and Rosie and wanted to talk about Henry. The conversation continued and Sherlock got the tour guide to open up about seeing the monster in Dewer's hollow. All he could prover was a couple of blurry pictures on his phone. Sherlock and Rosie could make out a furry, four-legged creature. Neither of them could make out the size let alone what species of animal it was. The guide tried to scare Sherlock by convincing him it something from Baskerville had escaped into that hollow…he didn't buy it. The guide then told them that he had a friend who worked for the Ministry of Defence and whilst he'd been there he saw terrible things. He had a huge cast of a paw print.

The black land rover drove up to the gates of Baskerville. The compound was surrounded with guards and high security systems. As Sherlock reached the gates, a guard with a rifle raised his hand and the vehicle stopped. The guard approached the drivers window. Sherlock showed some ID.

"You've got ID for Baskerville. How?" John asked with concern in his voice.

"Uncle Mycroft's name literally opens anything." Rosie laughed.

Sherlock lowered his voice. "It's not specific to this place. It's my brothers. Access all areas. I, um…acquired It ages ago, just in case."

"Brilliant"

"What's the matter?" Rosie asked.

"We'll get caught."

"No, we won't – well, not just yet." Rosie tried to assure John.

The gate began to slide open.

"Clear." The security guard said.

The security guard handed Sherlock the pass back.

"Thank you."

Sherlock put the car into gear and drove through.

"Mycroft's name literally opens door." John said.

"I told you that." Rosie said annoyed.

"We told you – he practically is the British government. I reckon we've got about twenty minutes before they realise that something's wrong."

Sherlock drove up to the main complex of the Baskerville building. He parked up, John and Sherlock got out. Before Rosie left, she put her hair up and put on pair of glasses. When she John and Sherlock chatting and not paying attention she changed her top into something slightly more formal and put on a more formal pair of trousers and slipped on a pair of heels. She got out.

"What's this all about?" John asked.

"My disguise….I can't go looking around like a snot nosed teenager, I'll be given the boot straight away."

Another soldier led the three of them through the main barriers and up toward the building. Everyone that the three of them saw were scientists being escorted. As they walked up to the entrance a jeep pulled up beside them a young soldier got out.

"What is it? Are we in trouble?"

"Are we in trouble sir?" Sherlock said sternly trying to assert authority.

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir."

He still stood in front door preventing the three of them from making any progress.

"You were expecting us?"

"Your ID showed up straight away, Mr Holmes. Corporal Lyons, security. Is there something wrong, sir?"

"Well, I hope not, Corporal, I hope not."

"It's just we don't get inspected here, you see, sir. It just doesn't happen.

"Ever heard of a spot check?" John showed his ID. "Captain John Watson, 5th Northumberland Fusiliers."

Lyons came to attention and saluted. John returned the salute.

"Who is she, sir?" Lyons after standing at ease.

"Rosie Walker, Mr Holmes personal assistant. He doesn't go anywhere without me." Rosie cut in before either Sherlock or John got a chance.

"Sir, ma'am. Major Barrymore won't be pleased sir. He'll want to see you all."

"I'm afraid we won't have time for that. Mr Holmes has a very busy schedule you see. We'll need a full tour right away." Rosie said as her dad's PA.

"That's an order, Corporal." John reminded him.

"Yes, sir." Lyons spun on his heel and walked over to the door. The trio followed. Lyons swiped his pass through the reader by the door. Sherlock had to do them. Lyons pressed a button on the reader and the door opened. The three of them walked in.

Lyons led them on a tour around the facility. Sherlock and John leading the questioning whilst Rosie made notes on her phone. All the labs looking identical with their white tiles and bright lights. All the scientists dressed the same with their lab coats and face masks. All three of them studied the experiments. Along the way they spoke to a Doctor Stapleton and Sherlock solved the case of Bluebell, the disappearing, glow-in-the-dark rabbit. After this, Sherlock realised that they were running out of time and gave the nod to Rosie.

Rosie turned to Corporal Lyons. "Well, I think we've seen enough for now, Corporal and as I said Mr Holmes and Doctor Watson are on a very tight schedule. Thank you so much."

Shocked Lyons replied. "That's it?"

"That's it" Rosie reiterated.

Sherlock turned and walked towards the door. "It's this way, isn't it?" John, Rosie and Lyons followed.

Sherlocks phone buzzed in his pocket and took it out and saw the text message.

 _What are you doing? M_

"Twenty-three minutes. Mycroft's getting slow." Sherlock chuckled.

As they opened the lift doors they were greeted by Doctor Frankland, a scientist that they met earlier.

"Hello…again."

Everyone walked into the lift. As the doors reopened they were greeted by a very unhappy military man.

"Er, um, Major…" Lyons said worried.

"This is bloody outrageous. Why wasn't I told?" He was clearly very angry.

"Major Barrymore, is it?" John stepped out the lift. "Yes, well, good. Very good." John offered his hand. Barrymore declined it. "We're very impressed, aren't we, Mr Holmes?"

Sherlock was rummaging around his pocket. "Deeply, hugely" He walked past Barrymore without a care. Reading the text message.

 _What's going on Sherlock? MH_

"The whole point of Baskerville was to eliminate this kind of bureaucratic nonsense…." The major was still very annoyed.

"I'm so sorry, Major." Rosie said on before of the three of them.

"Inspections!?"

"New policy, Can't remain unmonitored forever. Goodness knows what you'd get up to." He lowered his voice to talk to Rosie and John. "Keep walking."

Lyons stepped out of the room that he had gone into. "Sir!" He hit the alarm button on the wall. The alarms started blaring and the lights flashed red. The others stopped in their path. "ID unauthorised, sir."

"What?"

"I've just had the call."

"Is that right?" He turned to face Sherlock, John and Rosie. "Who are you?"

"Look, there's obviously been some kind of mistake." John tried to defuse the situation.

Dr. Frankland was approaching the group.

"Clearly not Mycroft Holmes."

"Miss Walker, please make a note. Computer error, Major. It'll all have to go in the report." John said.

"What the hell's going on!?" Barrymore shouted.

"It's alright, Major." Everyone turned to see Frankland had joined the group. "I know exactly who these gentleman are."

"You do?" The major didn't believe him.

"Yeah. I'm getting a little slow on faces but Mr Holmes here isn't someone I expected to show up in this place."

"Ah, well..."

Frankland offered his hand to Sherlock. "Good to see you again, Mycroft." Rosie masked her surprise better than Sherlock. Sherlock smiled and shook Frankland's hand. "I had the honour of meeting Mr Holmes at the W.H.O conference…Brussels, was it?"

"Vienna." Sherlock corrected.

"Vienna, that's it. This is Mr Mycroft Holmes, Major. There's obviously been a mistake." He nodded at Corporal Lyons who turned off the alarm and the lights returned to normal."

Barrymore turned to Frankland. "On your head be it, Doctor Frankland."

Frankland led the three of them out and admitted that he knew who they really were and why they were really here. He gave Sherlock his phone number and said that if he needed anything just give him a call.

Later that night they paid a visit to Henry Knight. He told them about two words he'd been seeing "liberty" and "in". Sherlock then told Henry about his plan to take him onto the moor to see if he gets attacked.

"What?!" John was just as stunned as Henry.

"Dad, are you sure?"

"That should bring things to a head."

"At night? You want me to go out there at night?" Henry was terrified.

"Mmmm"

"That's your plan? Brilliant." John was sceptical.

"Got any better plans?" Rosie asked evidently agreeing with her dad.

"Listen, if there is a monster out there, John there's only one thing to do: find out where it lives."


End file.
